Love the Most
by SpidERSpins
Summary: Winry couldn't forgive him for doing this to Ed, at least that was what she told herself. The true reason was much deeper than that. Edwin. Character Death. Mangaverse, spoilers to chapter 87.
1. Warmth of Tears on Numb Fingers

Author Note: So Elric Day is on October the 3rd… And I wanted to write something for it... Then the fanfic sort of turned into 3 sections, somehow… So the final part will be released on Elric Day… So it is my first multi-chapter fic, Yay!! Even though it is from the point of view of Winry and is very much Edwin, the original idea was that even though Winry and Edward were in love, Edward and Alphonse loved each other more… As brothers… Sorry, no Elricest here. Also, this is based on the **manga verse**. And has spoilers up to chapter 87… (I got so hyped up about chapter 87 that I got diarrhea… Sorry did you not want to know about that? Haha) Oh, and chrysanthemums might be nice happy flowers here in America, but in most countries, they are given only at funerals and are a threat when given at any other time… Just so you know… Anyways, Enjoy!!

Disclaimer: I don't own Fullmetal Alchemist… Isn't that just a shame?

--

There were a great many people attending the funeral, she coldly observed. Some she knew, such as Gracia Hughes (She must have decided to bring her daughter to another funeral so soon was to bring more pain to the youth and wasn't with her), Paninya, Garfiel, and a certain Maria Ross who had returned from the deserts of Xing now that her name was cleared. There were, however, more that only Ed and Al had met during their journey for the Philosopher's Stone and if not for the certain circumstances, she might have beaten Edward over the head with her wrench for being on friendly terms with so many pretty, young women. The rest, and the majority, were people Winry was certain Ed and Al never knew. There was, most likely, more than half of Amestris in attendance, which was to be expected when this was the funeral of the person who had participated greatly in the saving of their country and all their lives, and died for it. Risembool's small cemetery was filled to the brim with people.

The day was cold, and bit harshly on everyone, turning noses red and raw. It was uncomfortable, standing silently honoring the dead hero in the crisp winter air. Rather then raining, like a good and proper funeral, it snowed. Already the grass was dusted with the stuff. All the flower merchants in all of Amertris were probably making a mint off the funeral, for there were at least three times more flowers than people. A great many of those flowers were fresh white chrysanthemums.

Winry sighed and glanced around the crowd, studying grief filled faces of the people she knew the names of and just skimming over the ones she didn't. Colonel Mustang (He'd probably gotten a promotion for his part in saving Armestris, but she wasn't sure) was in attendance, despite the struggle going on for who was to become the next Führer. She watched him for a moment, noting that his ungloved hands were fisted at his sides and his lips pulled tight. His military cap was pulled low, almost like he had done so purposefully, so no one could see what emotion ran through his dark orbs.

Swallowing with difficulty, she turned her blue eyes to Mustang's ever present Lieutenant. Winry couldn't remember the First Lieutenant ever being further from the Colonel more than a few dozen yards, and in the past had wondered what happened when one of them had to go to the bathroom. Lieutenant Hawkeye stood silently, her fair face resembling stone while watching her Colonel, amber eyes unblinking. Despite being severely injured during the mass chaos on the Promise Day, she stood stock still, balancing Havoc who insisted upon standing to honor the hero in the casket. Second Lieutenant Black Hayate sat nobly beside her. Behind Hawkeye stood Mustang's other subordinates and allies.

Among them was Major Armstrong, wracking with loud, unsuppressed sobs. This seemed his pink sparkles were not in attendance. Major General Armstrong wasn't beside him, for she hadn't decided to grace them with her presence. Winry suspected she was among the party of men squabbling about the title to be Führer.

Winry looked away from Armstrong and surveyed the great crowd again. She zeroed in on one particular young woman with pink bangs who stood with the large mass of single, young women who were mooning over Edward. She knew the young woman to be called Rose, having met her in Loir. Her face was crumpled in an ugly fashion, as she tried, and failed, not to cry. Winry wished, slightly irritated, the girl would just allow herself to cry freely. _He_ deserved as much.

Shaking her head slightly, Winry glanced away and over to a dark, hooded figure in the background. She shivered, not from the cold air, not entirely sure how she felt having the murderer of her parents present. Next to Scar was the cowardly Yoki, who looked rather on edge to be there. Mei Chang was behaving surprising well, as well as her strange cat. Doctor Marcoh was among the group too, and his disfigured face looked all the more hideous, crumpled with sorrow and guilt for the loss of the golden-haired hero and in pain from the bitter winter winds biting his raw, deformed face.

Close by them was Ling, now Greed-free and for once not collapsed on the floor in starvation. Ran Fan, his bodyguard, was surveying the crowd too, and for a moment Ran Fan's black eyes met Winry's. The two quickly glanced away from each other; Ran Fan unconsciously touched her new automail arm.

Winry stared down at her feet for a moment, subdued at the sudden eye contact, whilst biting her chapped lips, before resuming her observation, this time the crowd closer to her. They were people who had been family to him, or close enough to be it.

Van Hohenheim, Ed and Al's father, was there despite Ed's wishes. Two trails of tears traveled down his cheeks, leaking from his golden eyes, which were so like _his_ that she felt a pang of pain in the pit of her stomach. All the immortal being, or whatever he was, had left to love was one son.

Near Hohenheim was Izumi Curtis along with her husband, his hand pressed softly and comfortingly on the small of her back, as she sobbed. At first, she'd fought against the tears, but in the end she'd succumbed to them. This was a funeral for a boy she'd loved as much as her own son and this most likely dug up even more unwanted, painful memories. Hohenheim might have made it so she wouldn't vomit blood anymore, but the pain in her heart was still raw with loss.

Her Grandmother, Pinako, stood near her and cried too. Then her eyes fell on Edward dressed nicely in what looked to be an expensive, and uncomfortable, suit. His hair was braided, like always. Winry was overcome with the overwhelming need to reach out to him, to pet him, to cry into his chest. Instead, she looked to Alphonse, not quite sure what she would find when she did.

Predictably, he stared blankly forward, unaware of his surroundings. He was silent and unmoving. When Edward had saved him from the gate, Alphonse returned thin with hollow cheeks. His hair had been long and unkept, as long as his brother's, maybe longer. He'd looked so fragile then, and even more so now. Thinking to herself that an open casket had not been a smart move, she glanced back to Edward.

A pang of hatred for Al hit her heavily. It was wrong of her to think that way, but she couldn't help but hate him for what he'd done to her precious Edward. She hated him more for other things, but she swallowed it away, forcing herself to feel the tender feelings she'd had for Alphonse back when they were children. Or for when he was a suit of armor. Back when things were right.

Winry brushed her fingers against her cheeks, her numb fingers shocked at the feeling of the warm tears that slipped down her cheeks. She hadn't even noticed she was crying. In the back of her mind she remembered Ed's promise the next time he made her cry, they'd be tears of joy. He had broken his promise, she muttered to herself, bitterly.

Steadily, the tears came faster and faster, and she wept louder and louder, staring only at Edward. Edward, who she loved the most. Edward, who was loud, rude, and a bean sprout. Edward, who was now broken beyond repair.

She began to bawl, wailing and howling louder and louder, drowning all the other sobbing in the cemetery. They all watched her with pity, and she yearned reached forward and take Edward's hand in hers, to seek his comfort. For warmth. For life. But all she would find would be death, cold death.

Edward Elric

The Hero of Amestris

1899 – 1915

'One is all, All is One.'

--

Author Note: Um… Yeah… That was the first part… And I wasn't quite sure what to put on the gravestone, so I hope it made sense… I also really don't know the set up of a funeral, so I just wrote stuff. Haha. Hope it wasn't too bad. Please review!! (Ack, as I was writing this, a spider just came down right in front of my face from the ceiling with his little webbing and then went back up. Creepy!!)


	2. Apple Pie Baked With Hate

Author Note: Thank you, to everyone who reviewed. Each review had me smiling like a dofus, at least until my sister thought it necessary to slap and snap me out of it. I am rather proud of myself for having minimal tears when getting the reviews, cause I usually get so happy I cry… Isn't that insane? Anyways, after I post the last chapter tomorrow, I hope to get back to my usual Royai stories, though I haven't written much of them.

Disclaimer: I have to wonder if this is necessary… After all why would I own it? I am an idiot!!

--

Sometimes, Winry suspected, Alphonse forgot even a year later. He'd get up every morning and search silently through all the rooms of the Rockbell home. He never said anything about it, but both her and grandmother knew. Afterwards, he'd lock himself in his room for a long spell.

What was worse, though, were the times Alphonse didn't figure it out. He'd leave Risembool in a haze, and didn't come back for a week or two. Winry and Pinako received letters from those they knew in other cities, all of them asking if something was wrong with Al. They mention that he seemed to be looking for something, for someone. For Ed.

And when Al finally came home, his haze broken, both she and Grandma would take him in their arms and they'd stay like that for a long moment, wordlessly comforting each other. Afterwards, Grandma would try to get Alphonse to eat something, which he politely refused. Despite finally getting his body back and finally being able to eat again, he ate barely enough to sustain himself. He was as thin as when he'd come back. The only thing that the two women could get him into clearing the plate of were Winry's apple pies. Winry found herself making them on a daily basis and a master pie baker.

The milkman now never bothered to stop by anymore, because Alphonse couldn't stand the sight of milk now, haunted at the memories. But that didn't matter as much, because the same memories haunted Winry and Pinako.

Risembool got a lot more attention now, though most of it was from people who'd known Ed well. General Mustang, along with Lieutenant General Hawkeye, visited as their schedule allowed. They both looked tired and haggard nowadays; ever since Mustang hadn't been able to snatch the title of Führer, life had gotten harder for them, especially for Mustang. Seemed the new Führer didn't care much for him.

Jean Havoc hadn't visited until just recently. And, although he still couldn't walk on his own two feet yet, he'd been able to stand from his chair, albeit shakily, when he visited Ed's grave. He'd said he was going to be able to rejoin and work under Mustang again, someday soon. Havoc had smiled and said he'd probably have an even better ranking now. It appeared the new Führer liked him at least.

Countless others visited too. They all seemed to be getting over his death, even the young women who'd previously mooned over the shrimp. Winry didn't know whether to feel smug or irritated over how easily the girls forgot him.

The Führer also made time for a visit, despite a busy schedule and a country in chaos since Bradley's betrayal. The Führer had only lingered for a minute or two, then left, but not before spitting on Ed's grave and muttering something about an idiot and a red cloaked shrimp. Then she turned away, General Buccaneer and Miles following close behind. Führer Armstrong didn't visit again, for which Winry was glad of.

Hohenheim had mysteriously disappeared, not that anyone really cared. Winry had spent too much time hating him because Edward had hated him.

And she herself visited Ed's grave on a daily basis. She mostly just sat and watched for a silent hour, unsure of what to do and say to a giant rock with the name of the guy she loved carved into it. Alphonse never visited, so it was up to her to keep it in top condition.

She was secretly infuriated that Al never visited. She could sympathize with him, of course. After all not only was the end of their journey laid to rest in the cemetery, but so was the beginning. Side by side, mother and son were now buried together, both dead before their time. The beginning and the end to their path to destruction, ending with only Ed's death. Yes, she could sympathize, but she didn't want to. She hated him.

While many were learning to forget him, only she and Al clung absolutely to his memory. Alphonse was no help to her though, and he was wasting away thinking he was the only one to suffer in Ed's absence. The selfish bastard.

Grandma Pinako was starting to wither away too, her old age finally hitting her. Ed's death had hit her as hard as her own son's, Yuri, had and now Al's distress over it was eating away at her health. All because of stupid, selfish Alphonse, she was losing everything that she loved.

There was no denying the fact she had once loved Al. He'd been like an adorable little brother to her in the past. But how easily those gentle, loving feelings were forgotten and replaced with a dark, devouring hatred.

After Ed's death, she had wished she'd learned alchemy. So then she could try, at least try, to bring him back to life. But she hadn't bothered with alchemy, leaving that particular science up to Ed and Al. Winry didn't have the courage to try and suggest it to Al. He might be a weak, withering idiot at the moment, but he'd be angry all the same. She could hear him now, his hollow voice angrily asking her if she had learned anything about what happened to him and Ed.

In her long hours of wallowing in Edwards's death, she thought about the failed human transmutation, about what might have gone wrong. And she had expertly deduced the answer and was convinced of it: Al had screwed up the transmutation. Without him, Ed would have succeeded. Stupid, weak Alphonse with inept alchemy had caused it to fail. Ed was too much of an alchemy genius to have failed otherwise.

Edward, the alchemy mastermind, alone wouldn't have failed; she'd persuaded herself to think that. She'd never told him how talented she thought of him in alchemy for he'd have gotten such a big head it would have given the bean sprout the illusion of growing. Winry wished she had, perhaps he might have figured it out himself. He might not have loved Al as much. Or maybe he never would have attempted the whole human transmutation thing. Everything would have been so different, so much happier without Alphonse.

Without Al, there would never have been a human transmutation to screw up for him, and the whole stupid journey for the Philosopher's Stone to get back his body wouldn't have been necessary. And thus, they wouldn't have been tangled up in the Homunculus business, and furthermore Ed wouldn't have had to die heroically saving his pitiful brother and the rest of the country.

So, as it all came back down to, it was all Al's fault.

The failed transmutation.

Ed's death.

For being loved by Ed the most.

And -- But no. She turned her head, bitterly. No matter what, she was the one who loved Ed the most. No matter what. He was hers to love and hers alone. And she wouldn't share him with anyone, most especially the disgusting Alphonse.

Winry jerked the apple pie she was making into the oven and glared at it. God damn him.

--

Author Note: So Winry is starting to sound a little crazy, isn't she? Sorry about that. She isn't. I might not love Winry as much as Hawkeye, but I do love her too. Anyways, I was a little surprised Olivier was made Führer. I know, I know. I wrote it. But still. I hope this chapter wasn't too bad -- I tried to add a bit more humor, so I hope it wasn't lost on the darker feel to this chapter. And I hope the humor from last chapter wasn't badly used, either. Thank you for reading this far into my story. I hope you'll stick around, at least until tomorrow to read the final chapter. If you can, please review. Even a simple, 'Good' will put me on Cloud Nine.


	3. Comfort Found in the Arms of Your Enemy

Author Note: Last chapter! Yay or Boo? Which do you say? Anyways, Happy Elric Day!! It is my first Elric Day as a FMA fan, so I am pretty excited about it. Thanks for all the kind reviews, they really made my day. Hope you enjoy today's chapter -- this time it has dialogue!! This was also the original idea I had had. It had just some how got longer and I made the previous two chapters too. Hopefully, I'll be posting a few Royai stories soon, provided school doesn't load me up on the homework.

Disclaimer: I didn't own it last chapter, which was posted yesterday, and I still don't own it today. Bummer.

--

Another year had passed since his passing, and Alphonse had finally returned to living like a relatively normal human being. He still hated milk and he still had a preference for apple pie, but he ate dinner every night now and he didn't wander off in any more hazes. And Winry hated him more than ever.

How could he have forgotten Ed so quickly? Sure, she had been annoyed with his previous behavior, but this was just as infuriating. To forget Ed was a greater sin than to live a living zombie in his memory. She reviled every time he stepped into the room, revulsion and hate balling in the pit of her stomach

Tonight, Winry sat alone in her room, wracking with silent sobs. Pinako was on her deathbed, and surely would die within the week. The misery and death in the passing years was too much for the old woman, even for the so called 'Leopardess of Risembool.'

Still that wasn't why she cried. Tonight, like most nights, she cried at the loss of Edward. Two years past, nearly to the day, and the loss was just as fresh as the day he'd died. Everything reminded her of Edward, and not a minute passed where Edward hadn't been included in her thoughts somehow. This obsession of hers had made her spiteful and bitter though, and she found many more things that she now felt abysmal hatred for, some nearly as much as her loathing for Alphonse.

There were so many things she hated now, such as young women, still jealous of any sort of feelings they might hate for Edward or, worse, Edward might have had for them. So much time had passed since his death, yet Winry was still looking for rivals over a long dead guy. The stupidity of it all was not lost on her, but she didn't mind acting like an idiot. To this day, she still felt her love grow more and more for Edward, who was dead.

She'd quit obsessing about automail, ever since his death she just couldn't find it in herself to enjoy the art behind it automail. Automail was something that belonged to Edward. Something that she'd once cherished and now hated.

Milk, too, was something she now hated. Everytime she looked at it, she remembered how Edward had hated it too. Milk, one of Edward's most hated enemies, and one she'd scolded for hating it so, was now her enemy too. Why had she been so insistent on Edward drinking it? He was perfect the way he was, or had been. He hadn't needed to drink milk; his short stature had been perfect for him. Besides, the last time she saw him, he had had a growth spurt, and was taller than her. There had been no need for him to drink milk. None at all.

Before the Promise Day, Edward had told her that he loved her, that he loved her the way she loved him. She'd been so happy, and they had shared a short kiss. It was all so unfair that he would be taken away from her. If she had her Ed, she would've been able to live happily no matter what happened. It just wasn't fair, she loved Edward so much, so why was it like this?

There was a soft rap at her bedroom door, and she jumped in surprise. A second later, not bothering to give her a chance for her to welcome him in, Alphonse came into the room. He watched her for a moment, taking in her tears and crumpled face.

"Winry." He murmured. Pain flashed through his golden eyes, and he came to her side, sitting himself next to her on her bed. He was silent for a long moment and then, "She's sleeping. Grandma Pinako may pull through this yet." The hope in his voice didn't carry to his eyes.

"That's not why I'm crying." Winry snapped bitterly. She rubbed at her eyes with her hands, trying to quell the tears that flowed.

"I know." He whispered quietly. He knew she still cried for Edward, but she'd already figured he did. She wasn't sure how long it had been like that, but sometime ago she'd discovered Al had the ability to look right through her and know every thought that passed through her mind.

She glared at him, her resentment building.

"It's not fair."

"It isn't." Alphonse answered, his voice but a whisper.

Another stab of hatred pulsed through her, and she gritted her teeth and tried to swallow the hatred that built up like bile in the back of her throat. "I miss him."

"Me too."

Fists clenched, she confessed, "I hate you."

"I know."

Fresh tears traveled down her cheeks. That was what she hated the most. The way he knew about her repugnance of him and just accepted it, not fighting it. The dam she'd built around herself, to keep the hatred from breaking out and drowning herself and everyone around, was starting to break and crumble, her waves of loathing being more and more violent.

"It's all your fault." She snapped.

A beat passed before, "I know."

And then the dam broke and she whirled around, snarling. "Fuck you!" She swallowed, trying to stop the words from falling from her mouth, but the dam was broken and trying to block the enormous waves with only her cupped hands to catch it all was not working out. "It's not fair. I love him… I love him so much… And you…"

"Edward loved you too… He told you that himself--"

"But he loved you more!!" She sobbed. "I loved him the most; as long I had Edward I would be happy… But he loved you the most. It is not fair! I would have died for him! I still would… To bring him back, to see him only for a minute, a second. And you--"

For a moment the declaration hung in the air, before Al took her by the shoulders, anger evident in his eyes. "What did you just say Winry?"

"You heard me. Without Edward I have nothing to live for."

Alphonse's eyes blazed, and brought his hand up to slap her. She winced, waiting for the blow.

But Al was still Al, and unlike Edward who said he didn't discriminate between hitting men and women, Al had principles. He refused to hit any woman, even if they were being an absolute idiot. He brought his hand back down to his side.

"Winry, if you loved Edward that much you would live for him. He wouldn't have wanted you to die. Especially not for him."

She sobbed harder, tears falling rapidly. They were the sort of tears that hurt to breath and made her choke, and still she kept crying. No matter how deeply she buried it, this was the reason she truly hated Al. The tears fell rapidly, without stop.

She loved Edward enough to die for him. Al loved him enough to live for him. She loved him so much it hurt, but Alphonse loved Ed more than even she did. She could forgive him for being loved more by Edward, but she couldn't forgive him for loving him the most.

"I love him."

"I know."

"You love him more." Al was silent, then wrapped his arms around her, as though an apology for loving him the most.

In the morning, the two would discover that Pinako had passed away sometime that night, leaving Alphonse, her most hated person and her enemy, as the only thing left in the world for her. Until then, though, she cried and found comfort in the arms of the man she hated.

--

Author Note: The End!! Hope you liked it. It was my first multi-chapter fanfic, so that was a good experience. Hope it was up to everyone's expectations. Also, how do you like the chapter titles? It took me a while to decide on a name for all of them. I hope that my next fanfic will be humor… I've written only one that wasn't angst-y, haha. Please review, even if it isn't a review to tell me how good it is, I don't mind. Reviews telling me what to work on help a great deal, too. Thanks for reading!


End file.
